


Warrior of the Storm

by off-ki (nightbirdrises)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 12:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbirdrises/pseuds/off-ki
Summary: There are no diamonds. They should have bought diamonds sooner.





	Warrior of the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I do a lot of reading on the various classes as a DM who likes to build NPCs from them. considering one of the M9's more recent inventory dilemmas, there is something about the Path of the Zealot I find particularly interesting.
> 
> also this is 100% a test run for figuring out these characters, which are brand new to me (writing-wise) so this is all very rough  
> edit: [I put it on tumblr too](https://convergers.tumblr.com/post/174973984185/warrior-of-the-storm-ao3-there-are-no-diamonds)
> 
> content notes: about on par with what occurs in-game when it comes to violence, near-death, etc.

They're all approaching their limits when the second-to-last ogre of the night's raid finally falls. This time, none of the goblins have managed to escape the Nein's retaliation - Nott made certain of it.

A mound of flames illuminates the small clearing with an angry, flickering light. It's reflected in Caleb's wide eyes and the jewelry hanging from Molly's horns as the latter attempts to cut in between the wizard and the memories forming from an ogre's ashes. Molly, hands on Caleb's shoulders, mutters, "Eyes on me, there you go. All the effort I put into this extravagance goes to waste if no one looks at it."

Grunts and shouts, clashing weapons and armor, fill the air still as Molly glances back at the battle that continues nearby. It appears to be near its end. "Let's put some distance between us and all this, Mr. Caleb."

Some thirty feet away, Fjord sits up with a groan after a flash of light and warm energy brings him back to consciousness. Dazed, he looks up at a smiling Jester and begins to put together some collection of words to convey his thanks. He's interrupted by Jester's voice, which actually comes from a ways behind him.

"Are you okay, Fjord?" He twists around and spots the real Jester, who has Nott on her shoulders firing drunkenly at the remaining ogre - which looks larger and tougher than the others. Fjord gives Jester a thumbs-up and she grins just as she makes a sweeping gesture, her lollipop connecting with the ogre's skull with a dull _thump_ and a spark of radiant energy.

"Fucking kill it already!" Nott yells out, her speech impeded slightly by both the alcohol and the swelling in her lip from an earlier impact. Her wandering eyes catch Caleb and Molly moving away from the fight and she instinctively knows what has happened. She nearly leaps from Jester's shoulders but holds back at the last moment, although she keeps tabs on the two of them at the edge of her vision as she continues to fire with minimal success.

The ogre roars in frustration at his predicament: flanking him are a swift whirlwind of blue and a terrifying vision of skeletal-winged fury, each preventing him from escaping their assault. Beau groans when her attempt at striking the ogre's weak point fails; she looks up just in time to see inky black eyes and a massive sword swinging down towards their enemy's shoulder. It catches armor and skids off, and the ogre turns back to Yasha with a crude chuckle.

A large club comes crashing down once, striking Yasha's shoulder and forcing her to stumble. Twice, this time smashing into her ribs and knocking her to the ground. The wings begin to fade away as she slips out of consciousness.

A third strike, a loud gasp from Jester, as the hit forces air from Yasha's lungs and leaves her looking wrecked. Jester and her duplicate both rush towards her limp body, dread beginning to replace the almost-relief of believing the fight to be all but over. Two blasts of energy careen towards the ogre, only to miss by mere inches as Fjord swears and starts to run in as well, his health be damned. Beau unleashes a swift volley of blows, most of them connecting. The ogre falls to one knee but stands again, growling with single-minded anger at the body in front of him as he jabs a javelin down, desiring at least one victory.

The piercing language of the Hells crosses the clearing and rends the last psychic threads keeping the ogre intact. He falls heavily and Beau leaps over the body immediately to reach Yasha. Molly, with a rare rage etched in his features that's already fading, begins running in as well.

"Fuck- Jester! I don't have a healing potion," she says frantically, her gaze avoiding the javelin where it has pierced through.

"I'm all out, I don't-" Nott prods Jester's cheek, hard.

"Your pearl of... of something!" she says. Jester nods and finds the pearl as quickly as possible, muttering the command word to activate it. Nott leaps down to the ground as Molly finally catches up. "Where's Caleb?"

"Fine," Molly says shortly. Nott looks past him and sees Caleb slowly walking back, stunned but no longer utterly paralyzed. Molly kneels down next to Yasha and looks over her with a darkening expression. He pulls a potion from his belongings and tips it into her mouth as everyone else watches. She remains still.

Too still.

"We never got a diamond," Jester says in a tiny voice that threatens to break. Molly stares blankly at the javelin, its point of impact. "I can't..."

Nott scrambles towards Caleb and clings to him as he slows to a stop ten feet away, dumbfounded and swaying at the sight of Yasha. She notices his unsteadiness and helps him sit down.

"There's gotta be something we can do," Beau says, desperation creeping in. She points at Molly. "You've come back, how?"

"I don't know." Molly mechanically reaches for his last potion of healing and, ignoring the protests of the others, pours that one into Yasha's mouth too. Still nothing. "I don't know."

"Bullshit," Beau spits out. She looks up angrily, her voice cracks as she repeats, "That's fucking bullshit, you know _something!_ You have to!"

"Beau, c'mon," Fjord says quietly, a hand on Jester's shoulder as she rifles hopelessly through the haversack.

"I have to do it within a minute, I think," Jester says quickly, brokenly. Her cheeks are damp as she looks around at the rest of them. "There's no time, there's no diamonds, there's no... it's what I am supposed to do but I can't do it."

The seconds tick by in silence. Beau turns to hide her fractured resolve but yells out when a small electric shock catches her hand where it rests on Yasha's arm. She pulls away and the others back off as well, watching as a spark of electricity - a tiny lightning bolt - flashes across Yasha's unmoving form. It leaps from arm, to leg, to chest, to head. Finally, with the sound of distant thunder, it lashes out at Jester.

Fjord's falchion appears in a splash of saltwater as Jester gasps, squeezing her eyes shut against expected pain. It doesn't come, and her attention is forcibly pulled to her symbol of the Traveler. She uncovers it, and it is glowing with light and sparking with that same lightning bolt.

"Try it," Caleb says softly from where he sits, his voice a little rough.

Jester falls to her knees, one hand on the symbol as she reaches out with the other to touch Yasha's forehead. The lightning races back across Yasha's body, warm light following close behind as if being directed or focused by it. The bolt disappears into nothingness along with the light after a moment and all those closest lean in expectantly.

Yasha's eyes slowly blink open, no longer black but their usual blue and violet. She stares up at four incredulous expressions with hints of fading anguish.

"What are you all looking at?" she says, wincing as she attempts to sit up.

"No, no, don't get up!" Jester says, holding her shoulders down with considerable strength. "You still have a big pointy thing in you."

"Holy shit, Jester," Beau says. "You just brought someone back to life. Like, for real."

"Are you fucking with me?" Jester yells out to nothingness, surprising the rest of the group. "Did you make me think I needed a stupid diamond but really I don't?"

"I am guessing," Caleb says, walking up with Nott, "that we had a little help from Yasha's, uh, divine benefactor. He is called the Stormlord, yes?"

"Yes, he is," Yasha says. "Molly. You're staring."

"You know, I think it might be ridiculous that I'm this blown away when I walk in a body that also came back from the grave. Shouldn't be surprised." He grins and embraces Yasha as best he can. Yasha pats his back, visibly confused but smiling anyway. "Don't you ever do that to me again, you hear me?"

"I will try," Yasha says.

"How's it feel? Coming back from death and all." Beau still looks concerned, as if the tide could turn back at any moment.

"Well. Not very good, I still have..." Yasha gestures to the javelin.

"Right, right, right. We should deal with that."

"But I'm glad. Thank you, Jester." Yasha looks up at Jester, whose hand hasn't left her forehead. She appears shaken by the entire experience, but she manages a smile.

"Well, I should be thanking Mr. Storm Guy if that's what happened. Do you think he knows the Traveler?"

"Maybe. I don't know if-"

"Can you ask him?"

"I don't talk to him the same way you talk to your... Traveler person," Yasha says. "But if the opportunity... I could try."

"Glad to see you're alright," Fjord says. He rubs at his bruised shoulder and turns around. "I'm gonna take a walk around, make sure nothing else is fixin' to catch us unaware."

"Okay, I don't have any healing left but we need to get this thing out of you and it's going to be bad, probably," Jester says apologetically as she moves towards the javelin. "Hold her down, Beau."

"Oh, uh, okay." Beau takes off her cloak and twists it up, offering it to Yasha. "You can bite down on that, if you need..."

"Thank you," Yasha says, taking it. Molly claps Beau on the shoulder and moves around to help hold on to Yasha.

"You think two of us could equal one Jester?" he says. Beau shrugs, allowing her shoulders to finally relax as the relief sinks in.

"Guess we'll find out."


End file.
